Stuck
by Lally Winchester
Summary: I was never meant to live in one place with one person forever, but I just can't seem to be able to leave him. GENDER-BENT AU. Human!Doctor/Rose fic. Rose is Rowan, Doctor narrates and remains nameless.


**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN NOR AM I IN ANY WAY AFFILIATED WITH THE BBC PROGRAM DOCTOR WHO, NO MATTER HOW MUCH I WISH I WAS.**

"You're my boyfriend; you're supposed to be here for me!"

"I am here, I'm right here! Where the hell are you?"

It's the same argument; day after day, night after night. Lately, it seems we spend more time fighting than doing anything else, and I'm sick of it. Once a week I threaten to leave him. We shout, and I pack; he throws things, and I cry. We always make up in the end – it really is quite the show, our performances are Oscar worthy. I often wonder why we put ourselves through it. I mean, it's not like we're happy living this way. Perhaps I should leave him, and I mean** really** leave him. Not just for my sake, but for his as well. Believe it or not, I do actually love him with all my heart. It's just that; well, we're just not compatible any more. He works in an office building doing God-Only-Knows-What, so he's gone all day. Me, I'm a neo-natal nurse and I'm almost always given the night shift. On this schedule, we hardly ever see each other. To be quite honest, this whole relationship has just been a lot of hard work with very little pay-off. The man drives me absolutely nuts! He's petty, jealous and overbearing. He can never let anything go and he's the type to hold your mistakes over your head for the rest of your life.

He thinks that I'm distant and irrational, that I don't care as much as he does. To be fair, there are some grounds to this. I mean, I do care; I care a lot. I'm just not the type of person who needs to be around their significant other all the time. Sometimes, I just need my space, you know, just some me-time. Growing up, I never imagined myself being tied down to one person, living together in one place for the rest of our lives. Some would call it domestic bliss, but for me it sounds more like a prison sentence. I'm a traveller, I always have been. Rowan and I met while I was back-packing through Europe. He was studying in Prague for a semester abroad in his third year of university, and I had taken a year off in order to see the world. His stay was coming to an end the week we met, so I agreed to stick around during that time and he decided to come with me to Italy. Back then he was so adventurous, and our love life was filled with passion and spontaneity. We had fun, even when he convinced me to come back with him to the England, much earlier than I had originally planned. He was romantic and sweet, encouraging me to get my high school equivalency and a college degree. I will forever be grateful to him for giving me that push because I truly love the job I have now and I met my best friend, Donna, through my college courses. See, this is why I stick around. Just when I've decided that enough is enough, I get all nostalgic and start remembering the good times. Once upon a time, Rowan and I were inseparable, and everyone we knew said that we would be the ones to go the distance. Now here we are, seven years down the line and still in the same place we were three years ago.

We live together in this too small apartment, even though with our combined income and savings we can definitely afford a house. Rowan wants one, and he's been fairly vocal on that point. He wants us to settle down and start building a life together. He looks into the future and sees marriage, kids, and a dog. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if in his fantasy he imagined an actual white picket fence. That's just not who I am, and that is never who I wanted to be. There are still so many places I want to visit and so many things I want to see. Why do we need a stupid piece of paper to tell us that we have decided to spend the rest of our lives together, and how can we possibly be expected to make that big of a commitment? Marriage only complicates things, and so do children. If I had kids, my body would be ruined forever and he'd never want to touch me again. They'd make us crazy and we'd spend more time fighting than we already do now. Kids are loud, messy and need constant attention. We would have to say goodbye to our social lives because we'd never see our friends again. Not to mention the cost of raising a child in this day and age is just ridiculous! All of our money would go towards feeding it, clothing it and educating it. I'd have to wait until I'm old and gray before I could travel again. It would literally feel like being trapped, in fact I'm beginning to feel claustrophobic just thinking about it.

So, what is there left to do? Rowan deserves better than this, I know that. He deserves someone who wants the same things that he does, someone who'd be thrilled to be his wife. I wish that person was me; you have no idea how badly I wish that. All my life I have listened to people talk about their future husbands, how many kids they'd have, what kind of house they wanted, and I've always felt abnormal. Rowan, he deserves normal, and a large part of him craves it (though he's quick to deny it). He just thinks he'll find that in me. He thinks that someday I'll come around to his way of thinking, as though I'm going through a phase. Maybe he's right, maybe my mind will change. Unfortunately for him, I don't think that day is coming any time soon and deep in my heart I don't believe it ever will.

It's not fair to either of us to keep up this pretence any longer, to live in this delusional fairy tale, to believe that if we yell loud enough and long enough the other will hear what we have to say and change their mind. One of us has to be brave enough to do the terrifying thing, to end this; to pack up and leave, for real this time. Everyday I tell myself I'm going to do it, that I'm the strong one and always have been. Then he comes home, and it will be a good night. We'll laugh and talk and watch stupid movies. Everything will feel right and nothing else will matter. We can tear each other down and build each other back up with just a few words. I'll start the day despising him but by nightfall, I'll have fallen in love with him all over again. It's a vicious cycle, one neither of us seems able to break. Tonight has been a very good night, but tomorrow is a different story. Maybe then I'll find the strength to do the right thing; or maybe the next day, or the one after that.

I am so screwed.


End file.
